I begin to type out a message telling him what an arse he is, and then stop. I’m going to try really hard to be mature about this. I’m going to ignore it. Or at least not text for a few hours. Or not until I’ve had my shower anyway.
Or… No. I can’t wait.
I pick up my phone and send a text sayingYou weasel, before stomping off to the bathroom for my shower.
Yep, I’ve been a naïve idiot. I was not expecting that.
I further do not expect Lizzie to message me a couple of hours later asking perfunctorily how the embroidery went and going straight on to say that yesterday was her and Dan’s two-week anniversary and right now she’s on the Tube to work from his place,verylate for work – she’s neverlate foranything, especiallyher high-powered City job – and she already keeps a toothbrush there and she thinks she’s in loveandshe really wants to invite me and Jake over for dinner with her and Dan this weekend.
I stare at my phone, imagining LizziemarryingDan, and me having to be friends with Jakeforever.
I do not want to do that. Every so often he’s pleasant – like he was about his embroidery – and you get lulled into a false sense of security, and then off he goes again being an arse.
But Lizzie is a very good friend and she’s had a lot of bad luck and if Dan is a nice person (althoughcanhe be, when he’s a good friend of Jake’s?) I should be very pleased for her.
But. Jake. I loathe him.
I settle on replying:
Did you see the newspaper article about him?
Lizzie replies:
Yep, nothing new there. Can you do Saturday evening by any chance? If not, let’s go Sunday? For dinner.
What? What does she mean nothing new there? Yes it’s new. We were beingniceto each other and he’s just reiterated his anti-romance-novel stance but inwriting. In a national tabloid.
Very, very annoyingly, I don’t think I can say no to her dinner suggestion. Fortunately, I have an evening with girlfriends arranged on Saturday, trying out the new Lebanese restaurant that’s opened down the road from my house, so I’m not lying when I say I can only do Sunday. There’s no way I’d waste a Saturday on Jake by choice.
I’ve barely finished typing a reluctantSunday would be great, when Sonja messages to ask me if I can meet her one on one asap.
Two days later, I’m in a café near my house waiting for Sonja to have brunch with her. It’s Saturday late morning and Sonja lives on the other side of London but was happy to come my way, she said, so she mustreallywant to speak to me.
I’m wondering whether she’ll vanish straight after saying whatever she needs to say, but going by her order of smashed avo with chilli oil on toast plus turmeric tea she’s planning to stay for a while.
I’ve had a healthy week food-wise and they havereallynice pancakes with berries and maple syrup in here, so I’ve ordered that, as well as a hot chocolate, which I’ll be working off this afternoon on a long walk with my friend Charlotte.
‘You should drink turmeric tea.’ Sonja takes a sip of hers and screws up her face. ‘God, that’s disgusting. Incredibly health-giving, though.’
‘I’ll add turmeric to the next curry I cook,’ I promise.
‘Hmm.’ Sonja takes another sip and shudders before waving at the server. ‘Could we get some sparkling water, please? And an espresso.’ She pushes her teacup away from her. ‘One-night stand last night. Got no sleep. Feeling like shit. Can’t deal with no sleep due to menopause but at least I haven’t lost my libido.’
I blink. That’s a lot of information from someone I do not know atall.
‘I feel like we’re friends,’ she tells me. ‘I like you.’
‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘Likewise.’ Idolike her despite her punchiness but I willnot, in reality, be telling Sonja anything personal about myself.
‘I love your nail varnish,’ Sonja says. ‘Every time I’ve seen you your nails are looking amazing.’
‘Thank you. I do them myself,’ I tell her. ‘I’ve got one of those gel dryers. Yours look fab too.’
Sonja looks at her own very well-manicured fingers, tipped with translucent varnish. ‘I think I should try some bolder colours. You’re inspiring me.’ She turns her attention back to me. ‘Your hair’s looking gorgeous as well. It has so much body.’
‘Thank you.Youhave amazing hair. Gorgeous colour.’ I find itreallyhard to just thank someone for a compliment without giving them one back, but this is getting ridiculous.
‘Thank you.’ Sonja pats her hair and takes a large slurp of the espresso that has just been placed next to her. ‘That’s better. Sooooo…’
